


half-life

by reallyfxckingpretty



Series: reactions ⇌ [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, David Rose reflects, David Rose thinks about relationships, Emotional Hurt, Introspective David Rose, M/M, Patrick Brewer is trying, S4 E7, The Barbecue, one single text message, romcoms and shame-eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallyfxckingpretty/pseuds/reallyfxckingpretty
Summary: "He thought he knew what it felt like to have his heart broken. He realizes now that he had absolutely no idea."David, the night of the barbecue.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: reactions ⇌ [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099607
Comments: 26
Kudos: 111





	half-life

This scene is so familiar.

Sitting in a dark room with a romantic comedy on repeat, surrounded by a mountain of tear-soaked tissues and discarded plates from shame-eaten food. 

He thought he’d been in a place like this before.

He’s been disappointed. Sad. 

He’s wondered what could have been. 

But this time, it’s different.

Because now he knows.

Now, he understands what he’ll be missing.

He knows what it was like to be part of something amazing. 

He’s not just upset. 

He’s shattered. Devastated. Destroyed.

He thought he knew what it felt like to have his heart broken.

He realizes now that he had absolutely no idea.

Didn’t know what those shards felt like splintering off in a million different directions.

Not until this afternoon.

When everything he thought he’d built came crashing down at a picnic table.

He wonders how people survive this.

How is he supposed to live in a world where he knows what it’s like to go to sleep and wake up next to Patrick Brewer and not be able to do it? 

How will he make it through the day without those warm honey brown eyes looking at him like he hung the fucking moon in the sky?

His fingertips brush over his lips. He’d have made that last kiss longer and deeper and more _everything_ , if he’d known it might never happen again. 

He takes a ragged breath that’s really more of a gasp, an anguished sound that shakes through his body and coalesces in his chest.

The ache is so strong, so sharp that he’s sure that someone physically reaching inside his ribcage and tearing his heart out with reckless hands would not hurt as badly. 

He’d gladly let it go. He has no use for it anymore. 

He’d give _anything_ right now for something to take the edge off this agony. A handful of pills to forget. Some way to go back and erase everything that happened after Rose Video 785’s “impressive late fees.”

The mattress underneath him feels more and more like what he assumes a jail cell cot must be the longer he lies on it. 

But this isn’t just some kind of post-breakup prison. 

He’s in hell. 

He’s trapped here. Suffocating under the weight of everything that he thought he had, thought he knew, and might never have again.

Each time he blinks, a fresh cascade of tears slips from his eyes, liquid trails of misery he doesn’t bother to wipe away.

Four months. For months.

He let himself get used to the little things. 

The shy smiles and the soft kisses. Stolen moments with hands all over.

He knew he should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have let his guard down. 

He chokes on a sob.

Nothing is the same now.

There was Before Patrick and now there is After Patrick.

His life can be divided into halves.

And this, now, this is a half-life.

He is half of what he was. 

He has none of what he wants.

The room isn’t dark enough for this kind of despair. 

The air is so heavy he thinks it might crush him.

He doesn’t care.

How is he supposed to live with this?

He wasn’t built to withstand a heartache of this magnitude.

He has no idea how he’ll face tomorrow or any day that comes after it.

His phone vibrates on the nightstand. The light catches his eyes and he turns in the opposite direction. It doesn’t matter who it is. He’s not interested in anything anyone has to say. 

Maybe he’ll read it in the morning. 

Maybe he’ll throw his phone away.

  


Twenty minutes later, when he’s no closer to sleep, the temptation becomes too great.

He reaches for his phone and holds his breath as he reads the message.

Maybe this isn’t a breakup?

He asked for time.

Patrick says he’ll wait.

No one has ever waited before.

But no one has ever made him feel the way Patrick did - the way Patrick _does_. Like he’s drowning in a kind of sorrow he doesn’t know how to quantify.

He knows he can’t go through something like this again.

Is the chance to be with Patrick enough to risk the potential for another heartbreak? Would the next one be worse? Compounded by time and more shared experiences?

He can’t think about it like that, or he’ll never even try to give him another chance. 

He can’t think about it at all right now. 

He sets the phone back on the nightstand and rolls over toward the wall, curling in on himself.

He needs time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come share your thoughts with me on tumblr: reallyfxckingpretty.tumblr.com
> 
> [Thank you Beebee for reigning me in and KM for telling me I wasn't finished yet.]


End file.
